Confessions of a Domestic Failure Page 14
“David.” My voice was so calm it scared me. It was scary calm. The kind of tone only serial killers use. “David, do you see what I’m wearing?”
His eyes fluttered. “Yeah. A dress. You look good.”
I was dumbfounded.
“Do you know why I’m wearing a dress?” I felt like a kindergarten teacher quizzing her students on their ABCs.
He raised his hands, exasperated. “Ashley, I’m tired, okay? I don’t have energy for whatever it is you’re getting at. Can you just spit it out?”
I felt a searing heat creep up my spine like a volcano about to explode lava, destroying everything in its path.
“Date night. Valentine’s Day. Need I go on?”
His face went blank and then...recognition. He jumped out of bed and walked over to me cautiously. “That was tonight. Oh, my—I completely forgot. I completely—it’s work. It’s been so stressful, Ashley. I will make this up to you.”
I took a step back. “Stress? Do you think you’re the only one stressed out right now? I haven’t had eight hours of continuous sleep for over a year. I’m overwhelmed every single day. Yet somehow I don’t forget to show up for the first date we’ve had since Aubrey was born.”
I tried my best not to raise my voice and my words came out like hissed accusations.
David cupped my face with his hands. “I’m so, so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. It’s this DentaFresh proposal, at the last minute they let us know their marketing initiatives for the calendar year were changing and—”
“Is this how it’s going to be?” I interrupted.
He froze, confused. “How what is going to be?”
“Am I, are we, going to come last after your job? Will I always be waiting at home for you to toss me whatever crumbs are left over from your important life in the outside world?”
David’s face fell. “No. It won’t be...it’s not like... I’m not tossing anything—”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I plan my entire day around you and Aubrey. I cleaned all afternoon today. I bought a dress.”
His eyes flickered. “You bought a dress? For dinner? You have a closet full of dresses.”
“Yeah, and none of them fit me,” I retorted painfully, each word feeling like it burned on its way out.
David crossed his arms. “Then work out!” he erupted.
As soon as he said it, he looked shocked by his own words.
The air felt like it was sucked clean out of the room with one of those infomercial vacuum sealers, but instead of raw cuts of rib eye, two people were suspended in time.
He started to speak. “I didn’t mean... I’m tired...you look...”
I held up a hand. “Just stop.”
I turned around and walked toward the door. Before leaving, I turned back and said, “Happy Valentine’s Day.” His shoulders dropped. I headed for Aubrey’s room. Once the door was closed behind me, I switched off the baby monitor on the dresser and peeked at her. She lay still and I didn’t move until I saw her take a deep breath.
I closed the door gently and made my way downstairs. I felt like a zombie curled up on the couch. The fight with David and his words sat in my chest, heavy and hollow. A few tears slid down my cheeks and I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
Motherhood Better Bootcamp Journal Entry
Hi everyone. This week has been really busy but I did my best with the challenge. My husband planned a date night and I won’t get into the details, but I got to see a new side of him. Xo Ashley
Friday, February 15, 6:30 A.M.
I woke up at 6:30 on the couch with a blanket over me. David must have put it there. I just didn’t feel like sharing a bed with him, not after how we’d ended things last night.
His words still stung.
I sat up. Something felt strange. Something was off. Then it hit me. Aubrey. She hadn’t woken up all night. My heart started pounding. Was she okay? As I stood up and flew upstairs I prepared myself for the absolute worst. Pure terror pounded in my chest.
I pushed her door open and it hit the back of the wall with a bang as I lurched toward her crib. “AUBREY!” She was still there. I put my hand on her chest and felt it rise while I tried to control my still-shaky breathing.
She was fine. Just sleeping. I stared down at her face in disbelief. Did she sleep through the night?
“I got up with her,” whispered David’s voice behind me. I jumped, startled, and turned around to see him standing in the dark doorway. “She woke up at one and then again at 3:30. I don’t know how you do it.”
I turned once more to Aubrey. A peaceful half smile played on her serene face. She sniffled in her sleep. To think I almost woke her up. I crept toward the door and shut it, being careful to catch the latch with the doorknob before it clicked.
I turned to face David. He stood there, looking down at me with his I feel so bad but I don’t know what to say face. I can’t resist that face. He opened his arms.
Without speaking, I fell into his hug and he wrapped it around me. I closed my eyes and let the side of my face soak up the warmth of his cotton T-shirt against his hard chest.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into my hair. “I’m a jerk. I didn’t mean that you need to exercise, I was just trying to think of something to say... I’m an idiot.”
“I know,” I breathed out.
He took my hand and led me to the top step, where we sat, side by side. “You’re perfect. You’ve been doing everything around here while I’ve been trying to keep the business going.”
The gravity of his tone startled me. “Keep it going?”
His brow furrowed, “Work has been hard lately, Ashley.” His face was serious. I studied his face and saw...was that fear?
“Companies aren’t hiring new marketing firms the way they used to and our start-up cushion is almost gone.” His voice shook.
I took his hand. “David, it’s going to be okay...”
He drew his hand back. “It’s not. Not unless I can land this DentaFresh deal. If we don’t get this business...” His voice trailed off, and from the way he looked around the house, I understood.
I felt helpless. Maybe I should have looked harder for a job. No wonder he blew up about the dress. “I’ll spend less money. I can take the dress back.”
He rubbed his forehead. I’d never seen him this stressed. “I’ll figure something out. In the meantime...if I have to work late—”
“It’s no problem. Work as much as you need to. I’m here.”
I rubbed his back. Everything was going to be okay. It had to be okay.
I took his hand and looked him dead in the eye, “David. I believe in you.”
He stared at me for a moment before putting his hand gently on my cheek.
“I love you. And your body,” he whispered into my ear.
He kissed me. I leaned into his kiss and felt my heart flutter the way it used to. I heard him sigh and we both giggled.
He rested his temple on mine and drew me close. “Why, Mrs. Keller... I don’t think we’ve kissed like that for a while.”
I lifted my arms over his shoulders and locked them around his neck. “I guess you should stand me up more often.”
He laughed his deep quiet laugh and wrapped his arms around my waist. “May I interest you in a date right now? Party of two.”
“Maybe,” I said, teasing.
“Fair enough. But first, I have something for you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rectangular black jewelry box. My eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. I thought he’d forgotten.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ash.”
/> I blinked back a few tears as I opened the box. Inside was a gold locket attached to a gorgeous braided-gold necklace.
“David,” I said, holding the necklace up. “It’s beautiful.”
I opened the locket. Inside, the date was engraved and three sparkling stones gleamed in the dim light of the hallway.
“Those are our birthstones. You, me and Aubrey. So that we’re always together and right next to your heart.”
That did it. A waterfall of feelings poured out of my face. I blubbered while he helped me put the necklace on.
He spun me toward him and kissed me again. I felt a tingle run up my spine.
“So,” I began coyly, “how about we have that date right now, but skip straight to dessert.”
Saturday, February 16, 11 A.M.
Marriage is a partnership. My husband has supported me on my journey to creating a worldwide brand from day one. He even helps me pick out Instagram filters.
—Emily Walker, Motherhood Better
Aubrey clapped her hands and jumped up and down in her exersaucer as I played peekaboo with her. Every time my eyes closed behind my hands I fought the urge to fall asleep right there on the floor. She woke up four times last night and the day was creeping by. I was on my third cup of coffee, but my mind was still a thick fog.
All I could think about, other than how utterly exhausted I felt, was David. How could I be so blind? And selfish? Here David was trying to get his company up and going, and I was angry because he wasn’t home for dinner. I couldn’t imagine the amount of pressure he was under every day to make this work. He was so brave—he could have stayed at Paulson International and eventually become CEO, but instead he chose to build something for himself...for all of us.
Aubrey squealed as I popped out from behind my hands and made a silly face. I pulled her out of the exersaucer and put her in her Pack ’n Play surrounded by toys. Maybe she’d entertain herself for a few minutes while I sprawled across the living room floor.
No dice. As soon as I put her down she started wailing, her arms outstretched. I picked her up and fought back tired tears. It wasn’t even noon.
My thoughts returned to David as I sat on the couch, Aubrey squirming in my lap, trying to pull my hair out of its messy bun. I hoped he got the DentaFresh account.
I feel so useless at home, just frittering the day away with Aubrey when I could be helping him succeed. There has to be something I can do; after all, this business is the family business and it’s not like I don’t have experience in marketing.
“Think, Ashley, think,” I said to myself. After a night of almost no sleep, my mind felt like a muddy pond, but I was determined.
And then, an idea.
When I was with Weber & Associates, one of the ways I used to encourage potential clients to sign with us was by hinting that a competitor was interested in our services.
Maybe that’s what DentaFresh needed: a little healthy encouragement. I grabbed my laptop.
It took me all of two minutes to find their press contact and make up a bogus email account.
To: Cynthia Burton, cburton@dentafreshco.com
From: Rebecca Squash, mssquash123@mail.com
Subject: Upcoming Dental Seminar
Hello Cynthia,
My name is Rebecca Squash.
I’m a reporter with a small regional newspaper looking for a quote from DentaFresh regarding marketing trends in the oral hygiene industry. Do you have any news you’d like to share? We’re reaching out to the All White toothpaste brand, as well. According to reports, they’re collaborating with new firms such as Keller & Associates to come up with innovative campaigns next quarter. We would love to hear your thoughts on the matter.
Best,
Rebecca
I smiled at the screen. So, is this what spies feel like? I felt both satisfied and utterly pleased with myself. It was just like old times in the office, except this time I’d completed a task with a baby batting at my face. Back in the day, my superiors used to praise me for my resourcefulness when it came to making things happen. It’s just like Emily always says, “Opportunity waits for no mom.”
The day felt like it couldn’t get any better. The only thing left to do was stop by the grocery store.
8 P.M.
Grocery stores should have signs in front of them for new moms that read like this:
Dear valued shopper, if you are entering this store with a young child, please know that you will lose your mind. If you should find yourself in an aisle having a complete nervous breakdown, find a customer service agent who will promptly hand you a square of our finest chocolate and small glass of pinot grigio. You will then be led to one of our several massage rooms while your child is taken to our state-of-the-art nursery. We will happily finish your shopping for you and deliver your groceries to your home.
I made the mistake of taking Aubrey on a post-nap errand today. Aren’t naps supposed to relax babies? Aubrey woke up the Chucky-doll version of herself.
I should have known things were going to be bad when Aubrey screamed the whole fifteen-minute ride to the store. By the time we arrived my nerves were already fried. After parking the car I did my best to do what Emily Walker calls “be present for your child’s needs.” She didn’t want her pacifier. She didn’t want her blanket. Her diaper was dry. She didn’t want a teething cracker. I even waved my phone in front of her face and she took it alright, then threw it out of the open car window. The screen now has a tiny crack up the side. Fantastic.
“Do you want to stretch your legs, honey?” I cooed to her as she let out another feral holler. Yes, that’s it. Once we’re inside, she’ll calm down.
For my baby shower I received one of those huge shopping cart covers that are supposed to prevent your child from getting cholera from other people’s kids. I’ve been using it religiously, but even that had to go horribly wrong.
Aubrey was still screaming like her hair was on fire for the few seconds it took me to grab an abandoned shopping cart. As I opened the trunk to pull out the cholera-prevention cover, I must have been frazzled, because it slipped out of my hands and onto the cement.
That wouldn’t have been such a terrible thing, but of course I had to have parked in the only spot that was directly over a huge puddle of brown, murky water with a thin gasoline-film rainbow over the top and what looked like a plastic bag full of vomit. I picked up the cover as quickly as I could, but it was already half sopping wet with putrid muck. No way was I putting my kid in that thing. Who knew what was in that water? Flesh-eating bacteria? I couldn’t leave it in my car. I stuffed it into a nearby garbage can.
By that time, Aubrey’s wails had settled down to desperate little hiccups, so I quickly cleaned the cart handle with a baby wipe before placing her inside. By “placing” her, I mean practically forcing her squirming, defiant little body to sit down and then doing my best to strap her in.
My luck continued when I noticed that not only was one side of the strap hard, caked with some sort of film, the other one was broken.
It took three more tries before I found a cart with functioning straps. Who are all of these kids breaking shopping cart straps with their Hulk muscles and bare werewolf teeth? And what are you spilling on them? Glue?
Aubrey’s hiccups started to gear back into an angry cry as I sprinted through the store, haphazardly throwing things into the cart. Between speeding down aisles and yelling “No” every time she tried to peel off her shoes, I had no idea what I was buying. I’d made a grocery list, but it was in the car and there was no way I was starting all over.
Twenty-five minutes and two family-sized bags of tortilla chips, produce I’ll probably never eat, overpriced chicken breasts, two frozen lasagnas and who knew what else later, we were done.
Standing in the line, Aubrey began looking at
me strangely. Her eyes went blank and her head fell back a little before...she barfed. Projectile vomited, all the way down my shirt. Everyone in my immediate vicinity gasped and leapt away.
Ten to fifteen seconds passed before I could fully absorb what just happened. Aubrey just stared at me, looking somewhat relieved.
“Ma’am? Can I...get you a paper towel?” said the checker who couldn’t have been a day over seventeen. He can thank me later for the free birth control.
“Yes,” I stammered, fully aware that I had an audience of close to twenty people who seemed unable to look away. “A few would be great.”
I did my best to clean myself up. All Aubrey needed was a dab on the chin; she’d managed to keep herself completely barf free. After the paper towels were all in a plastic garbage bag, a friendly mom shopping with her two toddlers handed me a container of disinfectant wipes.
“Keep them,” she said, smiling sympathetically at me.
When we finally got home, I peeled off my shirt and called the nurses’ hotline.
“If she doesn’t have a fever, you don’t have anything to worry about,” the nurse told me matter-of-factly. “These things just happen.”
“How often, do ‘these things just happen,’ exactly?” I asked dryly, sipping a cold glass of white wine as Aubrey splashed her bathwater with her palms. “I’d like to be prepared next time.”
She laughed, not realizing I was serious.
When David arrived home a few minutes after I put Aubrey down, I was sitting on the couch with another glass, dazed out in front of a reality show featuring moms as rich as they were childish.
“Hi, babe, how was your day?” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, then scrunched up his nose. “What’s that smell?”
“Motherhood.”
Sunday, February 17, 1 P.M.
Positive Affirmation of the Day: Mama-hood fills me with joy! I am a goddess who radiates hope, wisdom, and maternal beauty!